


every day's the first of the rest of your life

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And I'm Okay With That - Freeform, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Mentions of Suicide, one day i will learn to write angst without the happy ending, today is not that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Hunter throws himself out of a moving vehicle; Bobbi is predictably displeased.





	every day's the first of the rest of your life

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt Huntingbird + “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bobbi storms into the room and Hunter has enough good grace to look ashamed when she glares at him.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess ‘I wasn’t’ isn’t an acceptable answer,” Hunter says with a grimace.

“No shit!” Bobbi bites back. She sits down on one of the chairs by the hospital bed, reaching for Hunter’s hand. He gives it to her without protest, watching as she inspects the skinned knuckles and bruises with unwavering focus. Her touch is soft; anyone else would say it was uncharacteristically so, but Hunter knows how much she worries, and how hard she tries to hide it.

She releases his hand, allowing him to pull it back into his lap. That’s not the only part of him that’s injured – his entire side, from under his left armpit down to his knee, is scraped up and his left ankle’s shot – but Bobbi’s smart enough to know that prodding at either of those injuries will just make them worse.

“We do _not_ punch people and then jump out of moving cars, Hunter,” she says flatly. “Just – really, I want to know what was going through your head. Honestly. You _do_ still have the capability to think, right? Your brain cells haven’t stopped functioning?” Bobbi’s still lecturing, which means she must have been angrier than Hunter had originally assumed.

“No, you have not yet killed my brain cells with your nagging,” he snaps back. Hunter knows that when she’s mad like this, because of worry, it’s better just to be patient with her, but he’s at the end of his rope. He’s _been_ at the end of his rope for a long time, which is no small part of the reason he would do something as stupid as jump out of a moving vehicle. He’s reckless, but not that reckless.

“You could have _died_.” Bobbi’s voice doesn’t shake, but its steadiness is obviously artificial. Hunter turns to look her in the eyes.

“So what if I had?” He asks. She’s going to think it’s because he knows it’ll get a rise out of her, but Hunter… he’s really fucking tired. And no, launching himself out of the car hadn’t been some ploy to get himself dead, but life doesn’t mean as much as it used to, once.

“What?” Bobbi’s whisper is hoarse, all illusion of control evaporated. “You can’t mean that.” Desperation has never been a part of Bobbi’s vocabulary, but if Hunter had to pick a word to describe those four words, desperate would be his first pick.

“I don’t want to die, Bobbi,” he says firmly. He doesn’t, even if the protestations make the opposite seem truer. “But if I had died – would it really be the end of the world?” Hunter has never expected to live to a ripe old age. People like him just don’t _do_ that. It’s part of the reason he drinks so much – it’s not like he’s going to need his liver for much longer, anyways. Might as well get maximum mileage out of it.

“What do you want me to say?” Bobbi shoots back, anger rising again. “That it would be the end of my world? Because I don’t say shit like that, Hunter. I don’t.”

“I know you don’t, love.” He shifts in his bed, not allowing himself the luxury of a wince as he jostles the road rash. Bobbi already thinks he’s pathetic enough as it is. “Forget I asked, okay? I’m alive, so it’s a moot point.”

“No,” Bobbi hisses. “You can’t just – _no_ , Hunter!” She’s fuming now. “I –” Bobbi’s voice breaks on the singular syllable, and she crumples, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shake in silent sobs.

“I’m sorry, Bob,” he says softly, because there’s nothing else to say. He had been trying to make things better, but Hunter’s a fuck-up by nature. They both should have known this by now. Hunter swears that the only reason their relationship ever worked is because they’ve both had enough concussions to have serious memory issues. Otherwise they wouldn’t keep ending up in the same place – him disappointing her, the endless fights, the broken promises.

Hunter turns on his side, facing away from her. She doesn’t like it when he sees her cry. Someone else knowing all of her weak spots the way he does is dangerous, so he takes care to pretend that he doesn’t know her any better than anyone else does - that he doesn't know her at all.

He’s surprised when, a minute later, the bed dips. Bobbi’s careful as she wraps her arms around him, silently twisting her fingers through his. She presses her face, still slick with tears, against his neck, and sighs softly.

“You scare me, do you know that?” Bobbi asks softly. He nods silently. “I love you so much.” The words are so quiet that even now, with her lips mere inches from his ear, Hunter can barely hear her. “I wish that you could just _know_ how much, without me having to tell you, because that scares me too.”

“I know,” Hunter assures her quietly.

“But you don’t!” Bobbi insists. Hunter flinches at how loud she suddenly became. “Hunter, if you knew how much I loved you, you wouldn’t do stupid shit like that,” she says. “Because I know you, and I know that you don’t –” She cuts herself off and tries again. “You’re so _good_.” He makes a soft noise of protest, because if he’s anything, it’s not good. Bobbi shakes her head. “You are. And you don’t try to hurt people you love.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

The silence stretches between them, longer and longer, but Hunter knows Bobbi has to be the one to break it. There’s still the heaviness of words unsaid in the small space between them, and she needs to lift that weight.

“If you knew how much I loved you…” Bobbi exhales. “Then you wouldn’t do death-defying stunts, because you’d know how much it would hurt me if you were gone.” She blows out another breath, and Hunter wonders if she’s trying to steady herself, because she’s shaking. “I know what it’s like to live without you, Lance.” Yes, the divorce. The year of frigid silence before they had both mended enough to be in the same room without everything falling apart. “I don’t want to do that again.”

Bobbi’s obviously finished with he emotional confessions bit. Hunter knows what he’s about to do is probably ill-advised, but he does it anyways.

“Marry me, Bobbi.”

“Are you high?” She asks, but her voice is an octave higher than it normally is.

“You know how I feel about painkillers,” Hunter answers. “I’m serious, Bob. Put your money where your mouth is. You don’t have to live without me, if you don’t want to. Marry me.”

“You’re so fucking crazy,” Bobbi chuckles. “I’m in love with a crazy person.”

“Are you going to answer me?” He presses.

“Oh, I’m going to.” Bobbi’s laughter continues. “But let me have my moment, okay? Today is crazy. You’re crazy. I _hate_ emotions, Lance.”

Hunter smiles, squeezing her hand. “I hadn’t noticed,” he jokes.

“I’m crazy, too,” Bobbi continues as if he hadn’t spoken at all. He’s beginning to wonder if _she’s_ the one who’s high. “Who is stupid enough to marry the same dumbass twice? Bobbi Morse, that’s who.”

Hunter’s stomach jumps into his throat. “So, is that a yes…?”

“Yes, it’s a yes.” Bobbi responds. He doesn’t need to see her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “My fiancé is so stupid, Hunter. First he goes flinging himself out of a car and then he makes me talk about my feelings and then he doesn’t even realize when I say yes to his proposal!”

“Hey, give him a break,” Hunter teases. “He got one thing right, if he asked you to marry him in the first place.”

“I guess so,” Bobbi hums. “He didn’t have a ring, though. That’s kind of lame.”

Hunter flushes. “Yeah, about that…”

Bobbi lurches away from him. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“It’s not _here_. Christ,” Hunter says. “But I have a ring. A new one.”

“You’ve been planning this?” Bobbi asks. Hunter thinks she sounds almost awestruck, but that would be the second time today that she’s expressed an emotion she’s never shown before, and Hunter’s not sure he’s willing to accept that.

“Not exactly planning. More like… preparing for every possibility.” He shrugs, forgetting that that is _quite_ painful.

“And there was a possibility…?” Bobbi’s confused.

“There was more than a possibility that I’d want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Hunter replies.

“Okay, we’re going to stop talking now,” Bobbi declares. “I’m not doing any more of the emotional crap, fiancé.” There’s a smile in her voice and on her face.

“Whatever you say, fiancée.” He smiles back at her. “I hope kissing’s still on the table, though.”

“It definitely is,” She agrees.

Hunter leans forward to peck her on the lips.

It’s not particularly big or grand, but it’s the first kiss of the rest of their lives, and it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be about 500 words shorter but then _things happened_ and I can't control myself. Dear whoever prompted this, I hope you don't hate how extra I am. :)


End file.
